


stay tonight

by rattyuwu



Category: Persona 5
Genre: 2/2, Angst, M/M, Persona 5: The Royal, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, True Ending, spoilers for third semester!!, train scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rattyuwu/pseuds/rattyuwu
Summary: "You're...crying," Akira says, a hint of surprise in his voice.Akechi chuckles softly, "I'm well aware of that.""Don't cry," he says, gently wiping away the tears with his fingertips. "I don't like seeing you sad."It's the night of February 2nd, and Akira has a difficult decision to make.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 9
Kudos: 125





	stay tonight

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! i enjoyed royal so much...they did goro's character so well in third semester, ty atlus<3 anyways 2/2 wrecked me and i wanted to expand on it so here we are! hope you enjoy!

_“But I’m still going to ask you, one last time: Will you accept the reality I create for you?”_

_“I’ll be waiting in the palace tomorrow, just as I promised. If you still haven’t changed your mind by then, we’ll meet there…but if you don’t show, I’ll take that to mean you’ve accepted my reality."_

**February 2017**

Akira could never hate Takuto Maruki. They had a bond, after all, and the counselor had good intentions. Was it so truly wrong to wish for other’s happiness? As long as people are happy, does anything else really matter?

_But he’s manipulating people’s cognitions. We’d practically be like puppets in his world. That’s not living._

_But…Akechi…._

Back then, it had been so obvious, imperative even, that they were to rebel against Maruki and this altered reality. Now all Akira sees is a mess of grey in what used to be so clearly black and white. Lines running in different directions rather than a straight line. Head full of jumbled thoughts that cloud his mind. To live in a reality that caters to one’s happiness suddenly didn’t seem too bad. What’s the point of fighting so hard against this reality if he’ll end up losing Akechi again?

“What are you gonna do?” Morgana asks softly, breaking Akira from his reverie. 

Before Akira can formulate a reply, Akechi lets out a sigh, “I’d like to speak with him. Alone.”

Akira had the same thought. He had wanted to speak with the former detective for quite a while. So many unanswered questions, things left unsaid between them. A surge of apprehension wells up in his chest and he tries to push it back down. The first day of January comes to the forefront of his mind— the day they had made their deal. He realizes now that it was made on unfair circumstances, one knowing the truth while the other was kept in the dark.

Akira clenched his fist so hard he could feel his nails make half-moon shaped indents on his palm, slowly letting out welts of red. _He knew this entire time…so why? Why do you continue to fight?_

Morgana, taking one last look at them, seems to feel the tension in the room and hops off the booth. “Gotcha. I’ll go out for a walk. I’ll leave the decision up to you, Akira. Let me know when you’ve reached an answer.”

The door closes once again and they're left in each other's presence, in this discrete cafe Akira's learned to call home. He lets himself steal a glance at the former detective, tall and lean and face consisting of a sharpness that wasn't there before. The way he carries himself is full of confidence, of certainty, he's a person who knows what he wants and sticks to it. No more is the false pretense of a detective prince, so polite and pleasant. He's become so unapologetic, so himself, and Akira can't help but admire this change in him.

“I refuse to accept a reality concocted by someone else, stuck under their control for the rest of my days.” Akechi is straight to business, as always, no room for small talk.

The conviction in his voice is so strong, always has been, but Akira is still left feeling perplexed as to how someone could be so okay with throwing their life aside. “But then, you’ll…” 

“Don’t tell me, the leader of the Phantom Thieves is really so spineless to fold over some bullshit, trivial threat on my life,” the former detective grits out, anger clear in his tone. “I didn’t perceive you to be this weak.” He crosses his arms defensively, and red eyes pierce grey ones as he waits for a reply.

Akira shakes his head, maintaining his sharp gaze to the boy in front of him. “Stop talking about this like it’s nothing when you and I both know it’s not.”

“It IS,” Akechi spits out, raising his voice. “Do you think I’d be happy like this? Being shown mercy now… of all times?” He laughs in sheer disbelief.

“Your life IS important,” Akira says with frustration, “you’re important to me.” Talking to Akechi is akin to talking to a brick wall, sometimes. 

“Oh, please. I don’t want to be pitied by anyone and most of all, not by you,” Akechi sneers, then lets out a sigh.

 _It’s not pity_ , Akira wants to tell him. _You deserve so much more than what you’ve been given._ He decides to bite his tongue, opting for silence. He’s never been too good at expressing his thoughts through words. 

“Your indecisiveness is pathetic,” Akechi says, annoyance seeping at every word. His gaze is unrelenting, eyes burning holes into Akira’s body.

“Can you really blame me?” Akira says quietly. “It might be easy for you to throw away your life, but to me it—" his throat decides to close up before he can get out the rest of his words. He takes a breath to steady himself. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

Akechi chuckles at that, shaking his head. “Oh, but you have so many friends. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

There it is again, that fake, pleasant voice, smooth like honey. Akira hates it.

“No, you don’t get it,” he says, voice dripping with exasperation, why can’t he understand that he’s important? That he deserves just as much as anyone? “It’s different with you…” he trails off. And maybe it was all his times spent in the Metaverse that made him so bold, he really has no idea. But he knows he has to say this now, maybe then Akechi will understand. “I love y—"

“Stop,” his voice comes out composed, as always, but Akira can’t help but notice the shakiness hidden behind all those layers. “Don’t…. say things like that,” Akechi says.

Akira’s head shoots up to meet the former detective’s gaze. He thinks he sees something on his face, sadness, regret maybe, but it disappears the moment he blinks. Akira must’ve imagined it.

“It won’t change anything.” Akechi breaks his gaze, staring blankly at the wall ahead of them instead. Then he whispers, so quietly, that if the café wasn’t so dead silent Akira probably wouldn’t be able to hear it. “And if you say things like that… it’ll only make it harder for the both of us.”

He feels himself take a sharp intake of breath before he can suppress his shock. That...had to mean something, right? Akira had known he'd been feeling things for the other, for quite a while now, but he was never able to tell what Akechi felt for him, if he did at all.

And as much as it tugs on his heartstrings, Akira tries to ignore the fleeting happiness that Akechi might also have feelings for him too, because this reality could very well disappear tomorrow, and bring the other with it.

So, he just settles on saying, “this isn’t fair…why does it have to end like this?”

Akechi gives him a sad smile. “Life isn’t fair. I thought you’d know that best by now.”

“But with Maruki’s reality—” he starts to say, but Akechi, running out of patience, beats him to it.

“We’ve already talked about this, Kurusu,” he says, tone coming out sharp. “I’m not arguing with you on this any further. You haven’t forgotten about our deal, right?”

Oh, even if he tried, he couldn’t forget. He’d been so happy that day, to see him again. It was like the world decided it liked him in that moment. But now, it feels like it’s been playing a cruel joke all along.

“No, I haven’t.”

“So then, you know what needs to be done,” Akechi says, crossing his arms, a display of petulance. “But I want to hear you say it aloud, what’ll it be?”

If you had asked him before today, Akira would’ve known the answer. And even though a small part of him wants to stay in this reality, he knows he'd be no better than Maruki if he forces Akechi to stay here. So, he knows what to do.

His words are heavy on his tongue, but he wills himself to be strong and say it, “we’re gonna stop him.”

Akechi makes a satisfied sound at that, and uncrosses his arms, letting them fall to his sides. A lot of the tension that invaded the room earlier now gone.

“Good, I’m glad you’ve come to that conclusion. I will never accept this form of reality,” he says, as he makes his way to the door.

Akira lunges to grab Akechi’s wrist, not wanting him to go just yet. Akechi tries to tug his wrist back, but Akira has an iron grip.

“Akechi, wait.” He’s sure he’ll end up leaving a hand shaped bruise on the former detective’s wrist from how tight he’s gripping it. Not wanting to cause any further harm to him, he loosens his grip. “Just…stay here for tonight.” _Don’t go._

He doesn’t make any movements of tugging his wrist back, but he also doesn’t turn back to face him. So, Akira tries again.

“It’s late, and the trains have already stopped running.”

Still nothing.

“Please.”

Then he hears a small, “okay.”

They go upstairs, wordlessly, not seeing the point in filling the peaceful silence between them. Akira takes a few moments to find some clothes for Akechi and he hands him one of his comfortable sweatpants along with a grey t shirt. They’re fairly the same size, save for Akechi having an inch or two on him.

The other comes back a few moments later, now in comfortable clothes. The shirt is a bit oversized on him, sliding off his shoulder just a bit. His brown hair frames his face nicely, and Akira can make out the slightest bit of freckles on his face, now that all traces of makeup are gone. Akira thinks he looks nice like this. Adorable.

The bed dips, and Akechi takes a seat right next to him, and their shoulders are just shy of touching. Akira feels eyes burning into him, so he turns his head to face the other. He doesn’t have to turn his head much, since they’re so close already.

God, Akira is so in love…And he knows this will all go away tomorrow, but he tries not to think about it, pushing those thoughts out of his head and focusing on what’s happening in this moment. Akira twirls a soft strand of Akechi’s hair, his fingers lingering on the end of the strand. Akechi closes his eyes then, almost leaning into the touch. Akira moves his hand away from the strand, now running his fingertips on the expanse of the other’s cheek.

Even though the other had implied feelings would complicate things, make it harder for them to accept the inevitable, Akira comes to the conclusion that if circumstances suck, you might as well make the most out of it. He doesn't want to have any regrets.

Quietly, he asks, “can I kiss you?”

Akechi's eyes snap open at that, and he opens his mouth to protest, most likely, but then closes it and nods against Akira's palm, and that’s all the confirmation he needs.

It’s chaste at first, just a short brush of lips against each other. Gentle, unlike the harsh battles they’ve shared in Mementos. But after a few beats, it becomes more harsh, desperate, lips slotting together, both trying to chase this feeling. Akira runs the tip of his tongue against the seam of the other’s lips and he feels him open his mouth to allow him entry.

Akira’s not sure why he hasn’t done this any sooner, the pleasure overtaking his mind. He lets himself surrender to the other and lets Akechi invade his senses, the thought of tomorrow temporarily gone from his mind. They separate when the need for oxygen becomes too strong, and he feels their breaths mingling together, foreheads still touching. That’s when Akira notices Akechi is shaking.

“You’re…crying,” Akira says, a hint of surprise in his voice. Sure, they had those late nights at the jazz club where Akira felt that Akechi had loosened his mask enough to show a bit of the real him, but Akira would've never expected him to let down his walls this much. He feels happy, honored even, that Akechi trusts him this much to show this side to him. To let him see him like this. The other's wine eyes glisten with unshed tears, only a few escaping and slowly cascading down his face. But even like this, Akira thinks he looks pretty.

Akechi chuckles softly, “I’m well aware of that.”

“Don’t cry,” he says, gently wiping away the tears with his fingertips. “I don’t like seeing you sad.”

After the tears are gone, Akira kisses his forehead, and pulls the other to lay down with him. Even though his bed is just a sad mattress laying on top of some crates, it's surprisingly cozy. Akechi's head lays on his chest, breathing softly. Akira has never seen him look so relaxed before.

Carding a few fingers through the other's soft hair, Akira lets his thoughts wander, and recollects one of the many books Morgana would make him read on the train to school. He can't remember the title, but he recalls one of them saying if you force yourself to smile, you can trick your brain into thinking you're happy. He can't say he's ever tried it, but a part of him admits it leaves him with curiosity. Forcing his lips to lift upward, he stays like that for a few moments, eyes closed, stroking Akechi's hair, and trying to not think about the future.

Does it work? Maybe for a few seconds, give or take, Akira can't really tell. But honestly, he still feels the same. Feelings of sadness mixed with dread for the coming day. But he supposes that book was meant for more simple situations, a bad day at school, work maybe, not the last night you have with the one you love and knowing exactly what the next day will bring.

His mind drifts to Futaba, and how she must've felt in the moment she realized this world was a fake. What was going through her mind when she realized she had to let go of this reality with her mother? And Haru, too...how did she feel when she found out her father had actually been killed in their reality? That this was some escapist, play pretend reality they'd been shifted into?

Though it was true his friends had played right into Maruki's hands initially, they were able to snap out of it and fight against it, even after experiencing their true desires. Even now, Akira is amazed at their sheer willpower, and knows he has to be able to do the same. No matter how hard it can be to accept the truth, he has to. Their world is a far cry from desirable, but it's real and it’s the world they fought so hard for this past year.

There’s a million things he could say to the other but the tiredness is starting to get to him now, ebbing away at his bones, so he settles on mentioning their promise. _I still have your glove_ , is what he says, whispered into the quiet night in this attic turned room. If he wants Akechi to remember anything, just one thing, from their time together, it would be that. The glove he keeps tucked in his jeans pocket, the glove he holds onto everyday. A promise of another day. That they’ll meet again. That this isn’t over.

“That, again..." Akechi lets out a small laugh, and Akira feels it reverberate through his chest as he tries to commit that beautiful sound to memory, "you really are…one of a kind. I’m glad I met you, Kurusu.”

He feels Akechi grab onto his hand, thumb brushing along the outer part of his hand. They lay like that for a while, basking in comfortable silence, and then Akira hears the soft padding of footprints before he sees Morgana, peacefully jumping up and curling on the corner of the bed. He must be bone tired since he doesn’t seem to care that Akechi is here, falling asleep once his body hits the soft sheets.

Akira’s about to surrender to his tiredness as well and feels his eyelids start to close when he hears Akechi whisper, “I just wish we had met earlier.”

He doesn’t get any sleep that night.

**March 2017**

Akira thinks he sees him, sometimes. Brown hair in a crowd, only to find out it is a completely different person when they turn around and look at him with bewilderment. And he tries to act like he doesn't notice his friends lingering gazes on him, silently asking if he's alright. Something he's found out about himself is that he is quite skilled at crafting an indifferent exterior. His glasses do nothing but help with that sentiment, providing a mask of sorts so others can't discern his expression as easily.

Maybe that's not exactly something to be proud of, but he shakes it off. And before he knows it the middle of March rolls around and there he is, saying his goodbyes to his friends he'd made over the course of the year. The world keeps on going even though Akira feels like it stopped for him a little over a month ago.

"Hey, sorry, but we're closed for today."

He hears the deep, baritone voice before he sees the man, standing in front of the entrance to Jazz Jin, tucked away in the depths of Kichijoji. Bald, with sunglasses so dark he can't make out the eyes behind it. It's the jazz club manager...Muhen-san, Akira thinks was his name.

Akira's about to mention something along the lines of _oh, it's fine, I just came here to...reminisce?_ but Muhen-san beats him to it, making a sound of realization.

"Wait, you're friends with Akechi-kun, right?"

Friends? He's not so sure. It's a good question, so he ponders it for a bit. Him and Akechi, what were they? Rivals for sure, enemies at one point, but there was also something else behind it. Something more than friends, but not exactly lovers?

"I don't know," Akira finally answers, because it's the truth.

The man lets out a small chuckle, "huh? I remember when the both of you came here last. It's rare to see him with another person," he leans against the wall, looking up at Akira with a serious expression. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen Akechi-kun in a while. I'm kind of worried about him."

And Akira's always been glad that jeans have pockets, otherwise he wouldn't know what to do with his hands. The statement makes his chest tighten, makes him clench his fists, now buried in his pockets. He feels Akechi's glove in there, and he clutches onto it so tightly he can feel his nails start to make an indent on the leather, and so he quickly relents, not wanting to ruin it.

"Do me a favor, yeah?" His tone is more lighthearted now. "Next time you see him, tell him to come by again."

"Okay," Akira says, trying to keep his voice even and steady. "I will."

"And you," Muhen-san gives him a small smile, and a soft pat on the shoulder. "You're always welcome here too."

Giving the man a nod and a small smile, Akira walks away after that, slowly taking in the entirety of Kichijoji, where he had shared many nights with Akechi. The way he’s been feeling this past month is indiscernible, but if he really had to describe it, he kind of feels like he’s just floating, trying to get through each day, constantly caught between the dilemma of hanging onto an unfulfilled promise and the thought of moving on.

Morgana's soft voice cuts through the quietness, "Akira..." His head peaks out of the bag and he looks at Akira with concern.

"I'm fine, Mona." He gives Morgana a soft pat on the head. "C’mon, let's go say goodbye to our friends."

He tugs his bag a little higher on his left shoulder and makes his way to the station. Over the course of the year he's gotten used to carrying Morgana in his bag, so now he finds the weight is oddly comforting.

Returning to his hometown is not exactly something he’s been looking forward to. It was just last year when his parents made the decision to throw him aside once they slapped a label on him that said burden and never looked back since. _Are you happy now?_ He had wanted to ask them, now that you’ve gotten rid of your troublesome son, sent him away to the city with hardly any time to pack and hardly a goodbye?

The optimistic side of him thinks of the possibility that maybe they’ll welcome him back with open arms, now that they’ve decided he’s worthy of being treated like a decent human being now that he thinks the word of him being a trash delinquent have most likely vanished. Though their town is small, they move on quickly, clinging onto whatever the newest gossip is. That’s how life is on the countryside, with nothing better to do, it’s no wonder they fixate on mindless things like his probation. He wonders if the talk of the Phantom Thieves spread to their town, perhaps that'll give them something to mull over for a few more months.

The realist in him, however, figures he’ll be treated the same by his parents, no matter if their town remembers or not. It’s like once they slapped that label on him, they decided that’s all he ever was and will be. And if that’s the case, Akira tells himself he’s alright with that. He’s already made his own family— his friends. One of the things he’s come to realize is that a family by blood means nothing if they don’t see your worth.

-

He’s on the train when it happens again, having just finished saying goodbye to his friends he’s come to appreciate during this past year. They didn’t have as much time as Akira had wished, since his train was already at the platform, but it was nice enough they dropped by the station to say their goodbyes.

That’s when he sees him. In the corner of his eyes, he catches a flash of brown hair, and that school blazer coupled with his black gloves.

_He’s alive he's alive he's alive he's here it's really him_

A feeling of excitement wells up in his chest, so strong it makes him dizzy. A million thoughts race through his head, like what is he going to say to him now that he's here?

How many times has he imagined this exact scenario? How many nights has he spent, staring up at the ceiling, wishing for a certain person to come back?

The train’s just started to move, but he runs out anyways, and his landing isn’t the most graceful but that doesn’t matter because he’s here, he’s really here.

“Akechi!” He calls out, knowing he must look like a mess, but not giving a care in the world.

The other turns around, looking the same as he remembered. “Oh, it’s you.”

And then he smiles, a genuine smile just for Akira, not those fake smiles he always showed on TV or to his friends.

Akira catches up to him, now face to face with the other. “You still owe me that rematch,” he says, as he hands Akechi his glove back.

Akechi laughs, “I’d never dream of forgetting it.”

That’s one of the many ways he’s imagined this scenario.

He whips his head so fast to face out the big window, not even caring if it gives him whiplash, to fully see the other. His eyes search for that flash of brown hair he saw, it was unmistakable this time that it really was him. But there’s nothing…his brows furrow in confusion, because no, that can’t be right, he knows Akechi was there he can feel it so strongly in his chest he knows he was there he was there he was—

It’s then that a heavy sinking feeling takes residence in his chest, spreading throughout his whole body like wildfire and now he feels nauseous, like last night’s remnants could come up at any moment.

What was he expecting, really? Was he expecting things to be different this time? His mind sure loves to play tricks on him, but he’s even more of a fool to fall for it every time.

Akira feels a gentle paw tap his thigh and it makes him jolt in his seat. He had momentarily forgotten Morgana was with him. However, he’s grateful for the distraction because it brings him back down.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's fine," he says flatly, grey eyes glued to the window, as if staring at it would somehow bring Akechi back to him. Maybe if he stares at it long enough.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! did you guys know the part with muhen actually happens in the game :o i didn't know that in my first play through haha, but i thought it was so cool! the details in this game are truly *chef's kiss*


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